Laundry Day
by Crimson Axel
Summary: Crossover of the Iron Man Movieverse and Repo Men. Male slash. Remy x Tony Stark. Remy finds a peculiar item in the laundry basket and questions Tony about it. Oneshot. Rated T for references to sexual encounters and language.


**Crossover: **The Iron Man and Repo Men Universes

**Pairing: **RDJude Remy x Tony Stark

**Prompt: **(As given from an awesome friend. 3) Laundry day!

"Tony, what the hell is this?" The rich British accent struck the silence like lightning, causing the messy, dark haired man to lift his head from the blue glow of his holographic grid that he had been working on since early that morning.

"That?" The genius billionaire questioned, squinting across the room to get a better look at the odd piece of cloth that Remy was holding at an arm's length, a slightly disgusted expression donned across his handsome face. Recognition dawned. "Oh, that. _That_ is a souvenir." Tony promptly returned to his work, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip out of habit.

"But what the hell _is _it? A _thong? _There's extra fabric in the front, and, God, I think it _smells._" The taller man was grimacing in disgust, exchanging his gaze between Tony and whatever was in his hand.

"Like I said, it's a souvenir." The tanner man sniffed, moving experienced hands over the generic outline that was stretched out before him. Always true to his character, he was tinkering with the features for his suit. How else was he going to outdo War-Machine?

"I thought you didn't believe in keeping things for sentimental reasons," Remy complained, though he was still holding the object in question, moving it around between his pinched thumb and pointer finger.

"I don't. It's just a random keepsake. Actually, no, it's not even that. Get rid of it if it's freaking you out, Rem." Tony waved a free hand absently, peeking up unnoticed to watch Remy toss the thong-looking undergarment onto the bed and continue the rest of the laundry sorting.

After a stretch of silence in which Tony came to believe the subject was abolished, Remy suddenly launched himself at the bed, grabbed the "thong", and tossed it, balled up, at the concentrated man. It landed soundlessly on Tony's head. There came another stretch of silence, where dark eyes glanced up slowly, realized that there was a used, dirty piece of clothing touching him, and Tony erupted in a loud groan of whiny protest, hands jerking up to swat it away as if it were a defecated animal.

"So it isn't yours," Remy deducted, appearing smug, as if he'd been thinking about it the whole time. "If you'd been the owner, you would have taken it off your head and inhaled the scent like the narcissist you are."

"Fuck, it touched me." Tony shook his head wildly, standing up from the computer chair he'd been sitting in and shaking his body, stepping from one foot to another and grumbling incoherently. To his annoyance, Remy was grinning at him in amusement. "Hey, you'd be surprised. You think that's mine?"

Golden brows lifted in question. "You're saying it's mine? I highly doubt that, Tony. If it'd been mine, it would smell absolutely delicious."

"Okay, that's not gross," Tony commented sarcastically, kicking at the "thong" until he was a few feet away from his assailant. "You remember the other night in the basement? You know, where I was working like a badass, well into the night, and then you suddenly came in, shitfaced, begging me to pin you into the backseat of the hot rod—"

"No, though I highly doubt that I'd wear a—"

"A what? A banana hammock?"

Remy strained to hold his laughter but failed, having to bite down on his lip in order to keep from snickering after a good twenty seconds of being in stitches.

"Oh, _that's_ funny. Well, since you're technically admitting to your crime, I'm going to have to remind you that you're the one who said it smelled." Tony stared at his gorgeous companion, his eyes soaking in the visible warmth like sunlight that didn't burn.

"I'm not admitting to anything! I just thought the phrase was a bit funny. Sorry, is there a stain on my crotch?"

Tony's eyes lifted quickly. "No."

"I was just wondering, since you were sta—"

"Anyway, you can keep the souvenir or toss it. I was actually contemplating burning it, but I figured you'd be doing the laundry, so I stuffed it in under my _ripped _pants. Which brings me to another thing that slipped my mind. You're fucking _crazy_ when you're drunk." The bridge of Tony's nose scrunched as memories flooded back into his mind from the other man's drunken escapades.

"Really? Sorry, did I use my teeth?"

"Yep, I've got awkward scabs to prove it. You wanna know where they are?"

Remy's grin turned up into a mischievous smirk. "I'll figure that out tonight, won't I?"

"Oh, fuck you, Rem."

A small period of silence.

"How about you figure that out right now instead?" Tony pursued, making a motion with his hand that dimmed the lights.

"Can I wear the hammock?"

"No."

"Then let me finish the laundry and I'll get back to you." Remy pulled a self righteous look out of nowhere and brought the lights back to their usual glow.

In the end, Tony returned to his hologram, completely hot and bothered. Remy, on the other hand, managed to finish the laundry.

"I hate laundry days," Tony muttered under his breath after Remy had returned and snuck under the covers to get a well deserved rest. The dark haired man was rather uncomfortable sitting with bite marks on his ass.

FIN


End file.
